


Spring

by Anonymous



Category: Moominvalley (Cartoon 2019), Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson
Genre: Anal Sex, Fluff, M/M, PWP, Vanilla, softest bfs alive and yal are REALLY trying to tell me they’re kinky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-06-02 11:37:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19440688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Snufkin thinks Moomin is beautiful.





	Spring

**Author's Note:**

> hey FUCK fujoshis and anybody who fetishizes gay men or lesbians u are NOT welcome

“Oh... oh, my...” Moomin inhales shakily, peering down at Snufkin over his soft belly. Snufkin presses two slender, lubricated fingers inside him, sliding gently in and out. The end of Moomin’s tail, the part not held down under his weight, flicks sporadically. Moomin sits at the edge of his bed, Snufkin kneeling on the floor between his legs.  
“Is this okay, Moomintroll?” asks Snufkin gently, planting a small kiss on the soft fur of Moomin’s inner thigh. He notes the tiny clumps of fur, sticky from precum. “Yes, yes, of course,” he mumbles out, mouth drawn ajar from the indescribable sensation. He desperately tries to let his body relax, but whenever Snufkin moves, he feels his breath hitch and his fingers grip tightly at the sheets.  
Snufkin watches Moomin’s face with big, warm eyes as he adds a third finger, Moomin swallowing thickly and gasping. Snufkin places his left hand over Moomin’s right, rubbing his knuckles with his thumb soothingly. He seems so terribly vulnerable, his thick thighs spread and short fur standing on end. Snufkin feels as though he could never tire of this sight; something akin to a secluded space of twinkling forest hidden away, seemingly crafted just for him. His cock throbs in his undergarments, and he feels uncharacteristically impatient and hungry. “Do you think you’re ready for me?” Snufkin asks, still warm but more mischievous than mere moments before. Moomin’s tail flicks as he lets out a quiet whine, Snufkin’s fingers slipping out of him. “Yes, oh, please. Gracious, Snufkin, please,” Moomin laments with haste, eyeing Snufkin desperately with eyebrows contorted into a frown. Snufkin giggles, teasingly pressing a kiss to the side of Moomin’s little cock, strained and pretty and fleshy pink. He gets to his feet and leans over the moomin, weight against his belly as he tilts his head upwards with gentle hands to access his mouth and kiss him. Moomin places his hands at Snufkin’s wrists, taking a gentle hold of his bottom lip with his teeth when Snufkin pulls away.  
Snufkin laughs breathily and stands straight again, unbuckling his pants and pulling them down along with his briefs, letting them fall to his ankles. Moomin fluffs a pillow behind his head, lying back and stretching, pulling his legs apart enticingly. Snufkin finds it awfully endearing, cracking an amused smile as he reaches for his lubricant, a small glass bottle bought from a homely trade shop on his winter travels. He strips himself of his shirt, wanting to feel his bare skin against Moomin and his beautiful coat. Snufkin then dribbles the lubricant onto his perked cock, taking in small, shallow breaths as he slides his palm up and down along his shaft. He quickly sets the bottle on the ground and adjusts himself in his hand, pressing his head gently to Moomin’s entrance. Moomin’s snout pushes down to his chest, eyes fluttering shut as he breathes open-mouthed.  
Snufkin nudges himself in, abruptly exhaling at the slick and plush heat around him, incomparable to any man he had been with prior. Not that he had been with any moomin before. He holds tightly to Moomin’s plush hips, testing a few slow, small strokes, and his heart swells at the heightened tone of Moomin’s voice, broken and whiny. “Oh, good... oh, goodness. I feel, I feel so full, Snufkin, I... Oh, oh, my...” slurs Moomin, words coming out of his mouth quicker than he can coherently form them. Even with his thoughts in shambles, he still envies how put-together Snufkin appears, who just huffs and closes his eyes. “Moomintroll,” he groans, Moomin shuttering at the grounding sound of his name, “You feel so good, so good around me.” Hearing Snufkin speak in such context and sound the way he did… it was almost embarrassing how much pleasure Moomin derived from it all, from things so foreign to him. Unsure of what to do with himself aside from just _feel good,_ Moomin wants to cover his face up, bury his head under mountains of pillows. But Snufkin, his insightful, endlessly sweet Snufkin, reassures him of his beauty, grabs hold of his wrists to pin them softly against the mattress as he begins to move his hips with confidence, Moomin moaning softly and fluttering his eyes shut.  
Despite the low groans rumbling out of his throat and the animalistic need to go faster, Snufkin remains absolutely transfixed by the utter magnificence of Moomin and how gorgeous he truly is. And he is sure to reiterate this, again and again, speeding the rock of his hips as his sentiments are swept away from him and his words melt into guttural moans and a verbal nonsensical mess.  
Moomin feels like he’s melting, unable to think of anything except how pleasant he feels. Not only was Snufkin considerably… _well endowed,_ but his best friend had made him feel beautiful. Snufkin was so achingly sweet and gentle, and his demurely handsome looks were enough to make any creature swoon. And _oh,_ had he proven to be talented with those hips...Perhaps he should have let Snufkin know how he happened to be quite particularly in love with him before they participated in something so intimate. How the term “best friend” seemed to mock him, especially in his current predicament.  
But there’s no time to think when Snufkin is hitting that spot again and everything washes away again with big waves of hot, intense pleasure, Snufkin’s hands sliding upwards to lace his fingers with Moomin’s. “Snufkin, I- Oh, oh, Snufkin, I think- I think I’m going…” he babbles, voice involuntarily high, shuttering as a calloused hand unlocks their fingers and rises up to cup his cheek. He clenches his thighs and his toes curl, moaning Snufkin’s name over and over and over until he cums, right on Snufkin’s stomach, head plopping to the side.  
Snufkin goes face down on Moomin’s chest, following suit, his last few thrusts hard and deep as he orgasms, replaying Moomin’s cries in his head. Practically lying on top of him, Snufkin rises and falls with Moomin’s chest. Moomin sees stars behind his eyelids, gripping Snufkin by his shoulders. He sharply sucks air through his teeth when Snufkin pulls out, Snufkin scooting himself further up his body to collapse on his chest.  
The amount of sperm being quite thoroughly rubbed into his fur makes him mentally facepalm, but with an angel like Snufkin clinging to him like a child, he just can’t find it within himself to complain. There’s a peaceful moment of just quiet breathing; Moomin firmly planting his hands at Snufkin’s lower back, Snufkin resting his cheek against Moomin’s chest, listening to his heartbeat and lazing in the touch of his soft, soft fur.  
“Snufkin…” Moomin near whispers. Concerned, Snufkin raises his head. “Yes, Moomintroll?”  
“... please grab a washcloth.”  
Snufkin snorts and giggles, lightly swatting Moomin and stumbling to his feet, Moomin laughing in spite of himself.  
Kicking off his pants still bundled at his feet, Snufkin walks towards the washroom completely naked. He pulls a small towel from a cubby, running cool water over it from the faucet. Returning to the bed, he wipes the cum off around himself, then off of Moomin, paying close attention to scrubbing the small nits starting at his chest and stomach, then down around his inner thighs and perineum. Moomin flails his legs. “Quit the scrubbing, you’re making me feel like a child!” he giggles out, shoving Snufkin away with his foot and moving back towards the headboard, his pillow in hand. Giggling and tossing the rag aside, Snufkin redresses in a clean pair of briefs, watching Moomin with amusement as he carefully sets his pillows in place and makes room for Snufkin. The effects of post-orgasm and being up past midnight start to wear down on him, sleepily crawling up to the spot next to Moomin and laying down. For a while, they just stare at each other. Snufkin feels his face grow warm as Moomin reaches out, just to rest his paw-like hand there, the more spiny fur on the underside of his hand tickling his cheek.  
Moomin makes a mental note of how tousled Snufkin’s hair is, a little stuck to his forehead from sweat, a little cow-licked like he had just woken up from a good nap. His eyes are half lidded, and one his vaguely flushed cheeks squish from the pillow beneath his head. Moomin decides this is his one of his very favorite versions of Snufkin. Top 3, at the very least. It’s an impeccably endearing sight to behold, and something about it is enough to push Moomin’s now-appropriate thoughts to the tip of his tongue.  
“Snufkin?”  
“Moomintroll?”  
“I think…” says Moomin, already beginning to stutter. “I think that I’m- in love with you. And I know- I know we’re best friends and we’re just having a little fun, but I just can’t help but think-“  
Moomin’s sentiment is interrupted by a laugh. Snufkin looks at him with now-wide eyes, grinning like a maniac. The smell of pine trees, Christmas time and all things lovable and delectably sweet were personified in his grin, endlessly warm and inviting. Bashfully, Moomin looks away. He knows a soft smile precedes a soft let down.  
“You didn’t have to laugh,” he mumbles, “I didn’t have to tell you.” His tone is a bit childish and pouty, but he can’t help it. Even so, Snufkin keeps smiling and kisses the tip of Moomin’s snout, stroking his face. Moomin feels squirmy.  
“My silly moomin,” he coos, Moomin staring at him incredulously, “I’m glad you told me. It makes it easier for me to tell you I feel the same.”  
And if Moomin’s eyes could bug out of his skull, they would have. He grabs Snufkin’s wrist, the one soothing his face, with a “Really?”, his ocean blues seeming to sparkle.  
“Yes, really,” he muses, all smiles, “I think tonight may have confirmed that. Don’t act so surprised.”  
Moomin rubs his snout against Snufkin’s face, unsure of how to express his joy other than with a traditional kiss. Snufkin accepts it with all the love in his heart, pulling him closer to rest his face against his neck and be held in his warm and thick embrace. Moomin feels giddy but increasingly exhausted, hugging Snufkin close and closing his eyes, sighing.  
“That was… _magnificent,_ by the way,” says Moomin softly. Snufkin chuckles and gets his soft fur through his fingers and clutches, nuzzling his face against Moomin’s neck.  
“I feel the same. I don’t think I could imagine being with anyone else after that.” Moomin hums happily in response, squeezing Snufkin tight and sighing. His breath falling steady, Snufkin holds back a small laugh at how quickly Moomin begins to snore, planting a light kiss to his neck with much adoration.  
Although accustomed to being alone more than anyone in this side of Moominvalley, Snufkin feels so strangely safe in Moomin’s arms... and it’s terrifying. It’s terrifying and his tired mind doesn’t allow it, doesn’t allow any thoughts too intricate or worrying, and instead offers the wonders of Moomin’s big, warm arms and his cozy vanilla scent. As his thoughts grow obscure, preliminary to falling asleep, he lifts his hand to stroke at Moomin’s face, the faint movement falling still as he drifts off. 

Some first day of spring that night was.

**Author's Note:**

> bark bark they is soft and in love


End file.
